


The Education of Aravis

by ineptshieldmaid



Series: Of Heroes and Queens [3]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Capital Punishment, Character of Color, Gen, Golden Age Narnia - Freeform, Rape Case (legal)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-18
Updated: 2008-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineptshieldmaid/pseuds/ineptshieldmaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Susan gives Aravis a sharp lesson in royal responsibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Education of Aravis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xxlucyferxx](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xxlucyferxx).



> Please note that this story deals with a rape trial at the court of Caer Paravel.
> 
> Some details of the legal process in Narnia are borrowed from Bedlamsbard's fic [In Constelated Wars](http://bedlamsbard.livejournal.com/263996.html). If you haven't read it, you should!

‘You gave orders that I’m not to ride out with Lucy.’ Aravis leant on Susan’s desk, casting a shadow over the Queen’s paperwork. Susan ignored her for a moment. She had known this confrontation was coming from the moment she spoke to the hostlers that morning. Lucy would have been up here first, except that even Lucy could see it was disastrous for Narnia to risk the life of Prince Cor’s future bride.

‘Lucy is not on a day picnic,’ Susan replied, her fingers still flying over the abacus beads. ‘Manscove is burning,’ Susan named their southernmost outpost, a fishing town on the Southside of Glasswater peninsula, close to the Archen border. ‘There are pirates on the coast and bandits in the woods.’

‘I can ride and fight and tend the wounded,’ Aravis insisted. ‘I’m in the Order, you can’t keep me here.’

‘I can and I will.’ Susan laid aside her calculations. ‘Aravis, listen to me. If I had my way, you wouldn’t be _in_ the Order of the Valiant today. You must leave it, at any rate, before your marriage.’

Aravis’ face was mulish. ‘I don’t see why.’

‘Because the Order is sworn to Queen Lucy, and Queen Lucy is Queen of Narnia. _You_ will be Queen of Archenland and you owe your loyalty to your husband.’

‘Maybe I don’t want to be! I’ll run away, I’ve done it before.’

Susan stood up, and extended a hand to Aravis. The girl glared, but followed Susan to the window seat and took it. The two sat there, their skirts overlapping, the cosiness of it all at odds with the resentment bristling between them. Aravis wore a plain blue split skirt for riding, and a tunic emblazoned with Lucy’s personal device, the green shield of Narnia with a red vial and a gold indented border. She had her dark hair pulled into a knot behind her head, and not a skerrick of powder or paint on her face. None of that could make her look prosaic, however. Large, dark eyes, long lashes, a slightly-too-large nose balanced out by red, pouty lips. Very pouty, right now. That, Susan reflected, was something young Aravis ought to learn to exploit.

‘I know you want to be,’ Susan told her gently, taking Aravis’ hand in hers. ‘With all due respect, my dear, the advantages to Archenland in your marriage with Cor are marginal, except that you obviously care about each other and work well together.’ And Aravis here was not above pride, Susan knew. She would glory in the pomp and ceremony of even so small a state as Archenland; what Susan had to do, what Narnia had to do, was instil some sense of royal responsibility to go with the privilege.

‘I want to ride and fight and do _interesting _things,’ Aravis complained. ‘That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?’

‘You’re here to learn to be a _Queen_,’ Susan reminded her, not for the first time.

‘Well Lucy’s a Queen, isn’t she?’ Aravis bit her lip for a moment, and Susan could see the cogs working in her mind. Add ‘dissembling’ to the list of things she needed to teach the girl, then. ‘Susan,’ Aravis began. ‘I mean, your Majesty. There’s a lot I can learn from Queen Lucy, I know I can. When I’m a Queen I want to be the one who’s there first in disasters, like Lucy was when that avalanche came to Bearstown.’

Well, that was something, Susan reflected. Five years ago, who would’ve thought the spoilt Tarkheena would ever have stooped to cleaning up common villages, or would ever have begged to join a hard ride down the coast through bandit country?

 

* * *

 

The Great Hall of Cair Paravel was already bustling when Susan arrived. Aravis, bleary-eyed, followed at her heels. Sharp words had been exchanged before the girl could be compelled to leave off her Order tunic, but Aravis was at present dressed a deep red which set off her dark hair and eyes. She seemed to view Susan’s orders to present herself at the morning court, wearing a proper dress thank you very much, as a great imposition, and had demanded to know if, should she trail at Susan’s heels often enough, she would be allowed to ride out with Lucy to do some _interesting_ work.

Privately, Susan wondered if she ought to have chosen today’s court for Aravis’ object lesson in the responsibilities of rulership. It was, perhaps, too much for a petulant child. Susan was of the opinion that a good shock was in order, however.

Directing Aravis to a seat beside the dais, Susan spoke briefly with the clerks, before ascending the dais to take Edmund’s seat. Edmund’s personal standard, with its silver scales, hung behind her. There had been a time when the Narnian people sought Peter’s judgement, but at some point, an indefinable change had happened, and it was King Edmund they sought. It had been Lucy’s idea to take Edmund’s throne when she passed judgement on wrong-doers, and Peter and Susan had adopted the practice without comment. Gradually, it had come to be part of the ritual of the royal court.

‘I, Queen Susan of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel and Lady of the Seven Isles, Queen by the grace of Aslan, and by the authority of my brother Peter the High King and the judgement of my brother Edmund, called ‘the Just’, and the blessing of my sister Lucy, called ‘the Valiant’, do declare the royal court of Cair Paravel open on this day, the fifteenth day after the Spring Equinox in the twelfth year of our reign.’ She stopped to survey the Hall- there was the family of the plaintiff, over to the left, their daughter standing between her parents with balled fists and her eyes fixed on the floor. And on the right, the accused, a Galman merchant from the city market, accompanied by a manservant, and a clerk. The clerk was whispering furiously in his master’s ear, and Susan guessed he was filling the merchant in on the finer points of Narnian law. The merchant was looking a little sick. ‘You, Yvetta of Paravel town, and you also, Marcom of Galma, are welcome here today. Do you both present your case, with such witnesses as you require, and know you both that you will be heard by the Crown and your testimony will be judged fairly.’

The case took a little over an hour to hear out, although Susan could see how the matter lay after barely ten minutes or so. So could Aravis, who sat wide eyed at the foot of the dais. Not shocked, Susan thought; but fascinated, that a Narnian court would take such a matter with such weight. Susan smiled, tight-lipped. Aravis was about to get all the shock she needed.

Susan gestured to a footman, who banged the base of his spear four times into the marble floor. The whispers and rustlings at the back of the court fell silent.

‘I, Queen Susan of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel and Lady of the Seven Isles, Queen by the grace of Aslan, by the authority of my brother Peter the High King, and by the judgement of my brother Edmund, called ‘the Just’, and with the blessing of my sister Lucy, called ‘the Valiant’, do declare this man, Marcom of Galma, to be guilty of assault and rape against Yvetta of Paravel Town. We declare this thing to be against the laws of Narnia, the will of Aslan, and the principles of justice. We therefore declare that this man, Marcom of Galma, shall surrender unto Yvetta of Paravel Town such payment as she considers fit. The maximum penalty for this crime shall be the life of this man, Marcom of Galma, under which circumstances Yvetta of Paravel  Town shall be rendered one sixth of the possessions which he has in this country, and the rest shall descend to his heirs in the normal manner. Yvetta of Paravel Town, you may name your price, and you may collect it yourself, or you may appoint a champion or representative to collect it for you. If you request it of the Crown, we shall arrange for the process of justice on your behalf.’ Susan swallowed. ‘Marcom of Galma,’ she added, as the Galman rose to his feet, ‘our judgement has been passed. You may not speak.’

The girl Yvetta was staring at the floor, as she had throughout the entire court procedure. Her parents and uncle, who were with her, conferred over her head. After a few moments, her father spoke up:

‘Your Majesty,’ he bowed. ‘Our price will be one quarter of the possessions he has in this country, which is more than he’d otherwise have and he can keep his life.’

Susan sighed, and stood up. Coming down the dais, she went to Yvetta, who dropped into a deep curtsey, eyes still on the floor. Susan tipped her chin up.

‘Yvetta? Is that what you decide?’

The girl gnawed on her lip for a moment, and then whispered, ‘His life.’

Susan nodded. ‘And so it shall be. Would you claim it yourself?’ The girl shook her head, terrified. ‘Then would you name a champion? You may name the Crown, in which case we will arrange for justice to be carried out. You may name your father, or mother, or uncle, or anyone else you trust who can wield a weapon.’ Susan swallowed again, knowing she had to say this last part. ‘You may even name me, and it shall be done by my own hand.’

The girl shook her head. ‘Queen Lucy,’ she whispered, and again, in a stronger voice. ‘I name Queen Lucy the Valiant as my champion.’

‘Yvetta of Paravel Town, you have named Queen Lucy the Valiant as your champion. As I am authorised to act on my sister’s behalf, I may accept this nomination for her. However, you must know that she is at present riding to Manscove, which has been ravaged by pirates, and that is not expected to return for a week, and may be away longer. If you wish, you may change your nomination.’ Yvetta shook her head mutely.

‘So may it be,’ Susan declared. Turning to Marcom, she gave swift orders for him to be taken to the dungeons, and for his clerk to be accompanied by royal accounts  clerks, that an inventory of his possessions might be taken and a sum of one seventh determined. There was a flurry of action, before the next case could be presented, and Susan used the time to call Aravis up onto the dais to speak to her.

Aravis’ black eyes were very wide, and Susan was amused to note that today, she had painted her eyelids and curled her hair as Susan did.

‘Well, Aravis?’ Susan laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘You can ride and fight, you say. Could you kill a man in cold blood before the whole town? Could you kill a man for rape, or treason, or murder? Could you kill a man for harming someone you never knew?’

Aravis said nothing.

‘Could you pass a judgement which might lead to death?’

Silence.

‘Lucy was fifteen when she performed her first execution,’ Susan said quietly. ‘I was thirteen when I condemned my first murderer. The victim’s family claimed only blood-money, but I didn’t know that when I passed judgement.’

More silence.

‘In most countries,’ Susan went on, ‘the Queen does not sit in judgement. In most countries, the Queen will never perform an execution. But in most countries, the Queen does not ride hard through bandit country to a burnt-out town on the pirate coast. Nor, in most countries, does the Queen negotiate treaties or calculate import duties.’ She released Aravis’ shoulder. ‘Think on that. You are dismissed. Report to me after lunch. We will be touring the castle storehouses.’

Aravis stood for a moment, still staring at Susan, before turning and making her way out of the hall. Susan smiled to herself, and then called for the next case to be brought forward.


End file.
